


A Meeting by the Great Lake

by BriThinksSo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Express, One Shot, Romance, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriThinksSo/pseuds/BriThinksSo
Summary: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are returning for their sixth year at Hogwarts. An unexpected run-in on the Hogwarts Express incites the Slytherin to request a meeting with the Gryffindor to discuss unfinished business. ONE SHOT.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	A Meeting by the Great Lake

**Author's Note:**

> **Hi everyone! This is my first attempt at a one shot, yay! I've had this saved on my laptop for a while and thought I would share. I'm not used to writing one shots (obviously) and I'll admit I have the inclination to continue this one, but I'll leave it as a one off for now. Let me know what you think!**

The Hogwarts Express had a different feel to it.

Although it was Draco's sixth year of commuting by use of the magical locomotive, it was undoubtedly more unnerving than the last.

Groups of expectant first years lined the aisles while gripping handfuls of enchanted candy and treats. Crabbe and Goyle gazed upon their prey like a flock of famished vultures.

Draco's cronies were in the middle of a discussion surrounding their inferior counterparts. There was a wordless agreement that the pair would partake in the terrorization of the first-years to the best of their ability. This was _their_ school, and they didn't intend on letting it out of their clutches peacefully.

Foolish, bumbling buffoons.

Draco Malfoy missed the days when his biggest concern revolved around whether the first-years had fear instilled in them due to excessive taunting. He longed for the days when the source of his hesitation revolved around whether his selection of Bertie Bott's Flavored Beans resembled that of a rotted fish.

Everything was different. Nothing would ever be the same.

Seated beside Draco was his on-again-off-again girlfriend who had a liking to get her hands on him in any way possible.

There wasn't a single thing about Pansy Parkinson that challenged Draco; there was nothing that tickled his fancy so to speak. She had little to offer, aside from coming from a strong lineage of purebloods, and she was explicitly boring.

Still, he had kept these sentiments to himself as it often grew lonely leading the Slytherins while simultaneously taking on the role of Hogwarts' top-tier villain. Besides, being the Prince of Slytherin naturally required the company of a Princess, and Pansy had simply found herself in the right place at the right time; in Draco's inner circle.

Being the reclusive commander among his comrades grew desolate at times, and even the cold-blooded Slytherin yearned for a woman's touch.

With the growing status of an up and coming villain, Draco had found himself in the company of several different pureblood witches over the holiday. His mother and father had the intention of guiding their son toward the continuation of their family name. He was to be married to the appropriate candidate once he was of age; someone of pureblood, attractive and astute.

But, to his disappointment once more, not a single one of them held the ability to challenge him mentally. They would drawl about their opportunist and idealistic views, some of which he shared, but it had been dissolved to the single subject open for discussion.

The women perceived Draco Malfoy as a figure of opportunity to dwell upon. He came from one of the most powerful families in wizarding Britain who divulged in wealth and consequential greed. Surely, any woman would be lucky enough to get a taste of the affluent lifestyle.

But every fiber of his being craved for more.

He required the attention of a witch who possessed a mind of her own, one who confronted him and didn't simply agree with him due to their unequivocal fascination; a woman who didn't hold their tongue in the face of their intimidation and freely spoke their mind no matter the consequence.

Of course, Draco had already been introduced to such a witch; a witch who dwelled in the oppositional house to Slytherin and fiercely stood her ground despite their differences. And ever since the end of term last year, no matter the amount of time that had passed or the inward battle that fought against it, he simply couldn't get Hermione Granger off the brain.

Draco idly peered out the window to the train while keeping a rigid posture against the back of the wooden seat. Pansy leaned her head on his shoulder and pet his forearm with the tips of her fingers. He glared at her hand from out of the corners of his eyes and reflexively rolled them.

Somewhere along the rampant unintelligible conversation between Crabbe and Goyle and the undesirable petting of his Slytherin counterpart, Draco decided to stretch his legs and take a walk around the train to clear his mind.

* * *

After attending an introductory meeting with the school's prefects, Hermione Granger unwound in her compartment with Ron, Neville, and Ginny.

Neville and Ginny had just returned from their meeting with Professor Slughorn, a new professor who Harry and Dumbledore had tracked down just a couple of short weeks prior.

Harry had noticeably not returned from the meeting which impulsively sky rocketed her nerves.

With the absence of Mrs. Weasley while at Hogwarts, Hermione took it upon herself to watch over Harry for the term based off maternal womanly instinct. Ron was there for his best mate in as many ways as he could offer, providing comic relief and occasional insight, but there was an innate necessity to protect the Boy Who Lived that Hermione was insistent on implementing.

Harry's increased paranoia had not escaped Hermione's attention. Such a level of paranoia would surely be a recipe for disaster for someone such as the Boy Who Lived who was impulsive and at times, reckless.

Ever since the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, she had noticed a certain distantness from her friend. Harry's godfather had died at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange, and was rendered once more to an absence of parental figures.

She was respectful of Harry's wishes to forego the discussion of the situation that stripped him of yet another life, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't be keeping a _very_ close eye on him this year.

Seeing that Neville and Ginny had returned from their meeting with Slughorn, Hermione couldn't shake the inward concern that Harry's presence was still missing. She made up an excuse to the rest that she had succumbed to a sweet tooth and wished to track down the trolley for a quick snack.

Hermione emerged from the confined area on a mission to track down her friend. Her gaze was transfixed on the red carpet of the train as she made her way down the snug hallway. With her vision steadfast on the ground beneath her, she senselessly bumped shoulders with someone in passing.

"Sorry," Hermione impulsively prompted. As she met the eyes of Draco Malfoy, the inner inclination to be courteous promptly depleted.

The blonde's eyebrows raised in surprise as his piercing blue eyes delved into hers. It was obvious that he was just as startled to prematurely run into Hermione as herself.

As she tried to walk around Malfoy, he unintentionally matched her movements causing them to nearly run into each other once more.

With a frustrated sigh, Hermione folded her arms and glared at the Slytherin. Malfoy proceeded to stand to the side of the aisle and extended an arm while wordlessly instructing her to pass.

"Thank you," she temperamentally dismissed while rushing past him and never looking back.

* * *

After a long day of traveling and socializing with her friends, Hermione unwound in the Gryffindor common room while curled up behind her favorite book in front of the roaring fireplace. Most of her housemates had already scurried off to bed, filled to a level of discomfort following the endless start-of-term feast.

The watch on her wrist that was gifted by her father notified that it was well past her bed time. As she approached the woman's dormitory she was greeted by a post owl with a parcel tied to its leg. She offered the winged critter a treat before sitting at the end of her bed with her legs folded Indian style.

Her heart skipped a beat as she unfolded the parchment and instantly recognized the handwriting. It was the same calligraphy that had pestered her all of last year.

_Granger,_

_Meet me by the Great Lake in half an hour. Come alone._

_\- M_

Confirming that her roommates were fast asleep, Hermione threw her robes over her nightgown and checked her reflection in the mirror before breezing through the common room.

* * *

The illumination of the full moon cast across the body of water revealing a low tide. The soothing sound of water rippling against the shore was washed out by the howling wind. Her hair was sent in a tizzy against the defiant breeze as she pulled her robes snugly around her neck.

Off in the distance, Hermione could make out a figure standing at approximately six feet tall with an outline to its figure that was unmistakably consistent with a certain treacherous blonde.

Malfoy absent mindedly picked up a few rocks from the shore and slanted his posture while sending them skipping across the lake. Despite the unruly weather outside, his whiteish blonde hair remained perfectly coifed to the side.

Hermione ardently approached the problematic Slytherin in a huff. Her hands were tightened into fists at her sides and her cheeks were kissed pink from the pinching wind.

"I'll have you know that it's after hours," she lectured while joining his side. "You shouldn't be here."

"Is that why you came here?" Malfoy challenged. His eyes crinkled at the corners and his mouth slanted into an insufferable smirk; the same smirk that made her insides churn and her blood boil. "To reprimand my neglection of curfew?"

" _I_ shouldn't be here," she revised her statement. "It's utterly irresponsible; _reckless_."

"Then why are you?"

Malfoy's simple interrogation, and blatant justifiable argument, unhinged the witch. She squeezed her eyes shut and frivolously shook her head at the sensation of his fingertips grazing her hips. Taking her silence as a moment of opportunity, his grip intensified as she naturally leaned into his touch.

"I've missed you, Granger," he admitted in a low husky tone. "Have you thought of me over summer?"

Hermione grit her teeth against her impulses as his lips traced her cheek. Coming to her wits, she placed both palms against his chest and shoved him backward with all of her might.

With a few steps back and a humorless laugh, the entertained glimmer in Malfoy's blue grey eyes prompted the desire to send a firm slap across his face as she had in their third year.

"I heard what you did to Harry on the train," she lectured.

"Scarhead was spying on me," he reasoned in his usual delusional defense. "I had to teach him a lesson."

"You had to do no such thing," she continued to reprimand. "You _broke_ his nose!" She jerked her head away from his touch as he attempted to curl a lock of hair behind her ear.

Malfoy's hands fell to his sides, safely docking his hands in his pockets as his head lolled to the side with a bemused expression.

The deafening silence between them was broken by the howling wind that hissed against her ears. When their eyes met, a sudden eruption of anxiety emitted from the pit of her stomach.

"No one can find out," she stated above a whisper as her eyes threateningly searched his. "Not a single soul.."

"Relax, Granger." Malfoy gave another pompous laugh while shrugging his shoulders. "It would be equally as destructive for anyone on my behalf to be informed that I succumbed to the ungodly act of snogging the Gryffindor Princess senseless at the end of last year."

"Not a single soul," she repeated with a stern finger directed in his face. "That.. that's why I came here," she answered his initial question. "To clear that up."

"As silent as the grave," he complied with the bow of his head.

"Good." Hermione irritably untangled her windblown robes from around his body while taking a step back. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

Malfoy's eyes gradually narrowed as he watched her storm off, her voluminous hair and robes billowing in the wind, while making her way up the shore and back to the Gryffindor tower.

And with that, the brooding blonde swaggered toward the castle on his way back to his dormitory.

But unbeknownst to both himself and the too-brilliant-for-her-own-good witch, there had been an undetected presence.

The emerald-eyed young man who had used the impish qualities of his Invisibility Cloak to his upmost benefit had continued to pursue his endeavors of following Malfoy around after hours.

Beneath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry Potter remained stagnant and slack jawed as his suspicions of the Slytherin and now, his own best friend, had peaked to an all-time high.


End file.
